a primer for the small weird loves
by setsunairo
Summary: You're Tomoda. You're in the eighth grade. You know these things. You know how to ride a dirt bike, and you know how to do long division, and you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn't do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn't matter anymore. / tomoda falls in love, but he falls in love with the wrong person


_**notes::**_ for the story's sake im making the protagonist's name _rintarou,_ derived from _miko_ _ **rin**_ and _ume_ _ **tarou**_.

i have no idea why i, a normal horikashi shipper, wrote this. but whatever. enjoy lmao

* * *

Your name is Tomoda and you are five years old. You know lots of things that five year olds do. You know that your daddy's in a very far place trying to make your family happy. You know that if you eat too much mochi on New Year's day you'll get sick like you did last year, and the year after that, and that mommy always buys the biggest, roundest watermelons she finds in the summer. You know that you're going into elementary school soon and you know more addition than the rest of your class probably will because you like reading and you know not many kids like reading the kinds of books you like.

Your name is Tomoda and you know that your mommy's friend is a lady who's a little taller than she is and that when she comes over she always brings over _Rintarou_ , and you know Rintarou is the coolest person you've ever met, because he's always got eyes as wide as saucers when you show him the encyclopedia you got for your birthday and he always listens when you read him complex words from your dictionary, even if he still stumbles over the pronunciation. When the cicadas start buzzing subtely while the afternoon bleeds into the dusk, you two run into the fields and spend the night catching fireflies, watching the glowing fade into the smoky sky and blend with the stars.

One day your mommy asks why you don't play with the other kids as much whenever you go outside, because your bike is lying untouched by the door in the grass, cooling off in the half of the treeshade from the summer heat, where it has been lying for the past week. You say, _those kids are boring! They don't know half as much as Rintarou does! They don't know how to speak in funny formal Japanese and they hardly even know what calligraphy is!_ She says, _why don't you teach them then?_ but you give out a whine (because you know you've had this conversation at least a bajillion times by now and you kinda wish that she would just remember why by now) and groan, _but they don't even care! All they want to do is run through mud and catch frogs and annoy everyone else._

Your mom gives you a funny look and a slight smile. You drop the topic and keep reading about the _Cormus kousa_ in the field guide for native plants.

* * *

Your name is Tomoda and you are twelve. You're still the smartest student in the class, but you know that Rintarou is quickly gaining on you. Your name is Tomoda and you are starting to notice the difference between girls and boys, but you are not understanding. Rintarou sneaks up on you while you're reading a book by Sun Tzu during recess and slings his arm around your shoulder and whispers _Guess who Yamamoto has a crush on_ or _Did you see Yuki's new dress today?_

You don't answer, but somehow his enthusiastic wavering voice that's so impatient for your answer irks you to an irritating extent. So you don't answer; You turn to the next page of _The Art of War_ and focus on reading about different types of land while Rintarou catches the look in your eye, the _I don't want to talk about this_ look, and pulls up a chair to read with you. You've been best friends for five years, and he knows that you don't particularly care about these kinds of topics, but enlightens you with them anyways. It's almost the routine. You're about to turn the page again when he grasps your forearm and pulls back, sending an apologetic smile to you while he hurries to finish the page. When he lets go, you feel a slight tingle, a slight burn, but there's no mark. No pain. Nothing at all. You brush off the feeling of electricity rushing through your veins, the sudden lightheadedness of having him so _close_ to you, even though he's always by your side.

Your name is Tomoda and you are starting to notice the difference between girls and boys, but most of all you are still noticing Rintarou the most. He's grown a lot bigger than when he was a kid. He's all lanky limbs— not scrawny, but more definitely more wiry, like a rabbit that's ready to bound into the next greatest adventure. His hair is starting to grow out a bit and it's getting just a little longer, covering his eyes when he clambers out of the pool, gasping for breath. You find yourself staring at him weirdly, losing focus halfway through _1984_ and forgetting what you were reading. And you're starting to realize that this kind of obsession is not the same kind that you felt when you two were just friends eating popsicles and going through WWF informational brochures, smiling and pointing at the pictures of workers handling tigers and pandas.

Your name is Tomoda and you are starting to realize that this kind of behavior is not tolerated. You know lots of things other people your age would not be able to know. You know about the Great Leap Forward and the slave trade and also the endangerment of the African rhinos.

And you also know that a boy who likes boys is a dead one.

Unless he keeps his mouth shut.

* * *

Your name is Tomoda and you are in high school. You're the top student in the grade, with all perfect scores. You have a little difficulty with calculus but you are getting the hang of it (don't tell anyone you said that, because can you imagine? The top student? Having trouble with math? No siree.) and you know that you have the qualifications to have your pick at any school in Japan, maybe even a snag at an American school. But you're not dreaming of Harvard or the University of Tokyo, you're dreaming about Rintarou.

Your name is Tomoda and you know you have a crush on Rintarou.

Rintarou.

He's your _best friend._

How disgusting.

He always waits for you at the end of class and your heart still skips a beat. You've got more adrenaline than the boys in _Lord of the Flies_. He grins as you run over. He's still not the smartest student, but he's also still really close. Close enough to share classes with you. So when he asks you one day during school—when both of you are gathered around outside under the old maple tree in the school's courtyard eating lunch and reading _War and Peace_ —about a _girl_ , you frown mentally. Probably physically too, because he notices your look and tries to defend himself. _She's not like that Maeda girl I dated from last year, I swear!_ he yells out indignantly. His sad look is already enough to change your mind about this situation, but then you remember why you don't like this.

Dated.

Dating.

Right, girlfriend. Something you don't understand even now.

While you ask the new girl about her hobbies, you smile bright and earnestly. She's sweet and kind and pretty, everything that'd be just perfect for Rintarou. When you head back to Rintarou, telling him about her favorite foods and restaurants, you see his relieved grin, and you smile.

You kissed a girl once, in an effort to know what he was feeling. There wasn't anything special, just a small kiss you gave to a girl who's name you don't even remember anymore. You remember the weird taste of her saliva, the slightly different temperature of her lips. You remember brushing your teeth thoroughly and crawling into bed, thinking of _Rintarou_.

 _I love you, I love you, I love you._

Like you'd ever tell.

* * *

Your name is Tomoda and this is your last year of highschool. You've been sucking up to Rintarou (not quite in the way you'd like, either) and giving him relationship advice because it's been two years since he and Ayumi started dating. You're going to graduate in a few weeks and all you can think about is how two years has nothing against 13 years of—

Of what?

You start avoiding him. You don't walk home with him anymore like you used to or wait for him to finish up his archery club activities. You still sit under the tree by the school's courtyard as you did with Rintarou when you were a kid. Some part of you hates yourself because you're hurting him, but another part hates him because he doesn't even notice. Every crack that you left as Tomoda is now being filled by her, or was already filled by another girl, or another friend. And you knew that this fragile relationship wouldn't last. Not with you like, like this. Because in the end this is about Rintarou, who's popular and handsome and well liked and everything you're not.

It hurts to see him with someone else, but you'd rather take this kind of pain than force him away from the person he loves.

If he was in a tough situation, you'd cheer him on.

If he got married, you'd buy him a beautiful bouquet of flowers— for him and his wife.

If he had kids, then you'd raise them and take care of them whenever he was out. They'd be the best at baseball and earn full marks on every test.

Rintarou's happiness is your happiness.

You're sure that this is why you were born.

* * *

 _Tomoda,_

 _I know we haven't been able to talk for awhile because of my girlfriend and all, and I'm sorry. I'll be waiting for you on graduation day. Meet me at our special place._

* * *

You're name is Tomoda and you're going to graduate in about three names. Tatsuya is just walking down the stage, certificate in hand. Rintarou's already got his, but he's waiting for you at the school's courtyard. You're still trying to decide if you're going to meet him, too.

When the principal shakes your hand, you put on your best smile.

* * *

The sun is warm. You and Rintarou spend the last hours together reading Pride and Prejudice.

Before he gets up to leave you kiss him. His face furrows into confusion and then his mouth drops into an O shape. It's small and quick. It's not even your first, but it should be, because this is the first time you've ever done something so rash for love.

"I'm so happy that I met you."

No words are said. He gets up, apologizes, and rushes off.

You savor the brilliant sensation of heartbreak.

* * *

 _Rintarou,_

 _I know we haven't been able to talk for awhile now, and I'm sorry._

 _I wanted to tell you that I've loved you for a long time now. But I suppose we have to go our own ways now._

 _I love you, I love you, I love you._

 _Should we ever come here again, meet me in our special place._

 _I'm so, so glad that I met you._


End file.
